Two For Dessert
by Rowena Zahnrei
Summary: In this Halloween story, Rose and the Doctor pay a visit to the planet Las Vegas. There, they discover a restaurant where the eerie decor may be more than just a theme... Complete! Includes instructions for a Doctor Who inspired cake! Please Review!
1. Two for Dessert

Disclaimer: I do not own _Doctor Who. _Please don't sue me or steal my story. Thanks!

NOTE: This story was inspired by the challenge prompt: _In-a restaurant, With-a Chocolate Dalek, While-a zombie sings._

**Two for Dessert  
A Halloween story by Rowena**

Rose couldn't help a giggle as she followed the Doctor through the orange door, ducking polyester cobwebs on the way. To say this was a 'theme' restaurant would be a grievous understatement. Halloween simply shrieked out of every shadowed corner. The walls, interior doors, and ceiling were painted black–even most of the lighting was black, the soft UVA rays making the Doctor's shirt and trainers glow. And everyone, patrons, servers, and band alike, were in full costume.

At least, Rose hoped they were costumes…

"Isn't this great, Rose?" the Doctor beamed, his teeth glowing almost blue in the UV light. "Just the place to spend a Halloween night. Here, everything you fear is made fun. Not to mention edible."

"Edible?" Rose frowned, suddenly wary. "Are you sayin' that they serve, like, werewolf steaks an' Godzilla burgers here?"

The Doctor gave her the type of affectionate look he might have bestowed upon a puppy who'd just made poo on her newspapers like a good dog. Rose scowled. If he patted her head, she swore that regenerated hand of his was coming off, and this time it would be for good. But he didn't. Instead, he took her hand and gave it a warm squeeze.

"Rose, I love the way your mind works," he smiled, and Rose still wasn't sure whether she'd been insulted or complimented. Just then, though, the hostess appeared. She was dressed in a tattered French maid's outfit with a glowing white apron. Her black hair was tangled and her oddly unblinking eyes looked eerily milky–a pale blue that was almost white.

"Contact lenses?" Rose whispered to the Doctor. He just shrugged, turning his beaming smile on the silently waiting girl.

"Hello. Happy Halloween. Two for dessert, please."

The girl grunted and thrust a stack of menus into his hands. "This way," she said in a cold, western-American accent, striding off on her bone-thin legs.

Rose and the Doctor shared an amused look. As they followed her trailing ribbons through the gloom, Rose couldn't help peeking at the other patrons–and what they were eating. A group of five dressed in Roman-style togas and tunics were animatedly munching their way through a chocolate volcano cake. A dripping wet, bearded sailor in an old fashioned-looking blue uniform and a large blue hat was using his marine knife to slice dainty bites off the biggest deep-fried squid Rose had ever seen. And a romantically smiling couple of suspiciously fuzzy blue people had their fingers plunged deep into a softly wibbling green mound Rose very much hoped was lime Jello–especially when the hostess came to a stop at a booth only a few feet away.

"Order now," the girl grunted.

"But we haven't even had a chance to look at the menu–" Rose started, only to be cut off by the girl's threatening growl.

"Order now," she repeated.

"All right," the Doctor said, handing the menus back to her. "If that's how it's gonna be." He winked at Rose. "We'll have four of your finest chocolate Swiss rolls–ah, I think you call them jelly rolls round here–with green custard filling, if you please."

"Chocolate icing or sprinkles?" the musty maid growled.

"Icing. On the side," he specified firmly. "Oh, and a small plate of those candy-coated peanut-butter sweets, six toothpicks, several strips of black licorice, and two maraschino cherries. Can you remember all that?"

The girl grunted again and stalked away into the dimness. The Doctor gestured for Rose to sit down, which she did only after using her scarf to brush down the seat. It didn't seem dirty, but with the dim lighting and everything Rose figured she'd rather be safe than sorry.

"All right, Doctor, time to come clean," she said. "Just what kind of place is this 'Halloween' restaurant of yours? 'Cause I've been lookin' around, and I jus' hav'ta say–" She just shook her head, at a loss for words. "Wow."

The Doctor pulled at his nose with a slight sniff. "Yes, well, the people here may take the theme a little too seriously. But it's all in good fun. That is the point in going to Las Vegas, after all. To have a good time."

"Las Vegas?" Rose repeated, starting to get excited. "Are you sayin' we're in Vegas? Like _Vegas_, Vegas. With the lights an' the Elvis impersonators an' the roller coasters an' shows an' gamblin' an' cowboys an' cactuses an' that?"

The Doctor pulled at his ear. "Well…" he winced, and Rose frowned, her eyes narrowing as realization dawned.

"Let me guess," she said. "We're not _in_ Las Vegas at all, are we. We're _on_ Las Vegas. There's a planet Las Vegas, am I right?" She shook her head. "Well, I s'pose that explains those blue people, then. An' those zombies on stage?" She gestured to the band, where the lead singer, a gaunt, distinctly gray-faced fellow in a dusty leather jacket, was currently whispering the song "She's Not There" hoarsely into the microphone (1). "Are they alien too?"

The Doctor grinned. "There's that mind of yours again," he smiled, his dark eyes glimmering with affection. "Workin' away. Brilliant!"

Rose sat back in frustration. He'd done it again! Was he saying she was brilliant, or that it was brilliant watching her make a fool of herself while she jumped through his hoops? Rose opened her mouth to confront his little two-edged comment, but was interrupted by the clatter of the two plates and several smaller bowls that were suddenly dropped between them. Yellow, black, and orange peanut-butter candies skittered all over the table.

"Enjoy," the musty maid grunted as she left. The Doctor smirked. "Friendly service," he remarked, then eagerly rubbed his hands together, surveying the sweets spread out before them. Rose took up her fork, but the Doctor quickly reprimanded her.

"No, no, not yet!" he exclaimed. "We've got to construct our pudding before we can eat it. Now, watch me and do as I do."

"Monkey see, monkey do, is that it?" Rose asked dryly. The Doctor just shrugged, her implication going right over his head in his eagerness to get started.

"If you like," he said, taking up his knife. "First, you take one of your Swiss rolls, right? And you cut off the top third. Thus," he demonstrated.

"Right," Rose frowned, copying his actions on her own dessert. "And we're doin' this why?"

"You'll see," the Doctor smirked slyly. "Now, unroll about an inch or so of the little piece you just cut and rip off the extra cake."

"Can I eat the extra bit?" Rose asked, waving it around.

"Go ahead," the Doctor nodded, his piece already in his mouth. "Stick the little roll back onto the big roll with a dab of icing," he said, "and stand the whole thing up on the plate. There!" He grinned. "Any ideas what we're building so far?"

"Not a one," Rose said gamely. "What's next?"

"Take your second roll," he said, "And slice it in half diagonally. Corner to corner, like a triangle. See that?"

"Got it," Rose nodded.

"Good," the Doctor grinned approvingly. "Now, spread some icing on the cut edge and stick your triangle, thin, pointy-side up, to the side of your first roll. Oop–yours is a little uneven there, just trim off a bit of the fat end so your triangle doesn't overlap with the little roll on top."

"Like this?" Rose asked, frowning a little at the mess of chocolate icing and thick green custard that got all over her hands as she repositioned the triangle.

"Perfect!" the Doctor beamed. "Now, look at what we've made. Do these chocolate cakes remind you of anything?"

"Like what?" Rose asked, not quite seeing what the Doctor meant.

"No, no, no hints. You have to tell me. Is their shape familiar at all?"

Rose tilted her head and squinted against the dimness. "No…not really…"

"What if I do this?" the Doctor asked, slicing a red cherry in half and piercing each piece with a toothpick. "Here's one for the head," he said, sliding the pointy end of the first toothpick into the center of the small roll, then sticking the second in just to the left of top center on the large cake. "And one for the body…"

Suddenly, Rose gasped.

"It's a Dalek!" she exclaimed. "A chocolate Dalek!" She laughed out loud. "The cherries are its eyestalk and plunger thingy!" She grinned and the Doctor grinned back, openly delighted by her approval. "So," she said, "is that what this place is about, then? You get to build your worst terrors out of food, then eat them?"

"That's what it said in the advert," the Doctor told her.

"Advert?" Rose frowned. "You mean this is your first time here?"

"Yep," the Doctor nodded. "I saw the ad in one of those junk messages the TARDIS is always pickin' up and thought it would be a fun change–especially when you came in the control room after talkin' with your mother about _her_ Halloween plans. Why?" he asked, looking suddenly concerned. "Don't you like it here?"

"Oh, yeah, of course! I wasn't complainin'," Rose assured him. "The atmosphere's spot on. The music, the costumes, the service," she smirked. "Very Halloweeny."

The Doctor's grin was back again, bigger and brighter than before in the UVA light. "I'm glad," he said, and quickly turned his eyes back to his chocolate Dalek. "Now," he cleared his throat, "we're ready for the best part. Well, the best part aside from eating the things."

"An' that is?" Rose asked.

"Decorating our delectable Daleks!"

Rose and the Doctor spent the next few minutes happily frosting and adorning their Dalek desserts with licorice and candies. The peanut-butter sweets became the bumps on the Dalekanium that lined the Dalek's base, while broken pieces of toothpick served to represent the creature's gun. "An' we can use these little leftover chunks of licorice for those glowy ear-lookin' things that light up when they talk," Rose suggested, much to the Doctor's amusement (2).

The pair were having so much fun playing with their food that they didn't notice the tone of their surroundings had begun to change. Rose didn't even realize the band had stopped playing until she happened to glance up in response to a shadow that had momentarily covered their table.

"Erm, Doctor," she said, pulling at the distracted Time Lord's pinstriped sleeve. "Doctor, look up."

"Hm? What is it–ah! I see…"

Their booth was surrounded. Dozens of leering, ghoulish faces hovered in the dimly lit aisle, their milky eyes glowing pale blue. Among them, Rose recognized the blue couple and the sailor, as well as the band members and the hostess, their brown teeth bared and slick with drool as they inched closer and closer to their table.

"Two for dessert," the musty maid hissed, licking her dry gray lips, and the others took up the cry, stretching out their arms to claw at the Doctor's clothes and hair. Rose shrieked when she felt a strong, bony hand grab her arm. The creature's skin was cold and clammy; she could feel its breath against her neck, carrying with it the sickeningly sweet stench of rotting flesh.

"Cannibals," the Doctor frowned.

"Zombies!" Rose cried, and smashed her chocolate Dalek into the face of her nearest attacker. "Come on!"

The Doctor gave a little moan and looked mournfully at the bits of icing, custard, and cake now oozing down the creature's face, but he leapt over the table and followed Rose, pulling his sonic screwdriver from his jacket pocket as they elbowed their way nearer to the exit. The terrible creatures flinched away from the instrument's shrill whine, giving Rose and the Doctor the edge they needed to shove past the grasping hands and snapping teeth out into the neon brightness of the Las Vegas night.

Hand in hand, the pair dashed down the street and into a nearby alley, where they paused to catch their breath.

"So, the advert was a trap," the Doctor shrugged with false nonchalance. "I'll have to put a warning out. That restaurant is, quite literally, a gingerbread house, luring in victims with the promise of sweets."

He looked at Rose then, and his concern was very real. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Nah, I'm good," Rose smiled, the tip of her tongue poking out between her teeth. "It'll take more than a restaurant full of alien zombies to rattle me." Giving him a friendly jab with her elbow, she asked, "So, what's next? Back to the TARDIS? See if we can't find a planet full of vampires?"

The Doctor looked at her then, his dark eyes unfathomably deep. Bringing a hand to her hair, he brushed a few unruly strands behind her ear and smiled.

"That's why I love you, Rose Tyler," he said. Rose took in a sharp breath, then held it, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely he was now going to follow up with a comment demeaning the human race, or say something patronizing about her tendency to attract trouble. Jeopardy friendly he'd called her time and again, although the term applied equally well to him.

But he didn't say anything else. The moment stretched on, and the Doctor looked away, pursing his lips as he took an awkward step back.

"Yeah, so," he sniffed, ruffling a hand through his hair. "Back to the TARDIS, was it…?"

And that's when Rose realized… All those little comments throughout the evening, the looks he'd given her… He'd been trying to tell her something, and like a moron she'd misinterpreted his every gesture. And now he'd as much as confessed–

No, he _had_ confessed. Outright, in the open. And she'd missed it. He was moving away from her now, his hands shoved deep in his coat pockets, no doubt thinking he'd made a mistake even bringing her here when, in reality, she'd enjoyed every moment. Even the part where they'd had to run for their lives.

"Doctor," she said, surprised at the choked sound of her voice. He spun at once to face her.

"Yeah, Ros–" he started, but the sudden press of her lips against his prevented him from finishing that thought, or any others that might have been crowding his mind. Rose pulled back with a wide, dazed smile–only to blink in sudden alarm when, looking over his shoulder, she saw the zombies had followed them out of the restaurant. They were spreading out into the streets now; it was only a matter of time before they spotted them in the alley.

"Doctor," she warned, but the Time Lord seemed frozen to the spot, completely astounded.

"Doctor!" she repeated, rather more urgently. "Doctor, come on! We've got to get out of here. The zombies–"

"Hm?" he asked hazily, as if he'd been shaken from a dream. "What?"

"The zombies are coming," Rose spelled out for him. "They followed us from the restaurant."

"Oh, is that all," the Doctor smiled. "Only one thing to do, then."

"What's that?"

The Doctor grinned a wicked grin, grabbing her hand, then pulling her in for a quick kiss.

"Run!"

**The End **

**

* * *

**

**REFERENCES:**

(1) "She's Not There" was the debut single for the British band, the Zombies, and was one of the biggest hits of 1964.

(2) I adapted the directions for how to make a chocolate Dalek from the archival featurette _Blue Peter: Valerie Singleton Makes Dalek Cake_s, which was included on the "Dalek Invasion of Earth" DVD. The idea for green custard filling was mine. See, my local stores don't carry ready-made jelly rolls so, when I tried out this recipe, I had to make them myself. I mixed green food dye into a pot of vanilla custard and smeared it onto the chocolate cake before rolling it up. It looks more like Dalek guts, and I like custard better than jelly anyway. ;)

Please Review!


	2. Nibbles at the Mall

Hi! This is another short, silly Halloween story I wrote for a contest. The prompt was: _In-a mall, With-a skirt, While-a strange thing happens._

Disclaimer: I do not own _Doctor Who_.

**Nibbles at the Mall  
by Rowena**

"Mommy! Mommy, I can have this, right? Please say yes. _Pleeeeze!_"

Daya Kestrel glanced down at her daughter and sighed in exasperation. A scarf that would have looked ridiculously long on a giraffe was wrapped around and around and around her little neck, its multi-colored fringes dragging on the Halloween shop's thinly carpeted floor.

"Robyn, honey, no," she said. "That thing is longer than you are. Go put it back."

"But _Mooom!_" Robyn whined. "That's not fair! You never like anything I like." Her little brother Jay, who was sitting in the front of their shopping cart, made a few babble noises and slapped his hands against the cart's handle in sympathy. Daya pinched her nose.

"Look," she said, "come on over here. Aren't these butterfly wings pretty? Ooh, and this skirt!" She pulled the airy, light purple garment from the hook and ran her hand admiringly over the layers of soft fabric. "It's absolutely lovely, honey! You can be a pixie for Halloween! Now, put that eyesore back where you found it and I'll–"

"No!" Robyn exclaimed, hugging the scarf to her chest. "I don't want to be a pixie! I was a fairy last year and it's practic'ly the same thing! 'Sides, I can't put it back. I didn't get it from here."

Daya lowered the skirt. "Where did you get it, then?" she frowned, her voice growing sharp and wary.

"From the guy with the dog," Robyn smiled, pointing out the door to the mall's crowded main corridor. "He's right over there, Mom, see him? Standing by the pretzel stand." She waved happily, then furrowed her brow, looking suddenly confused. "But where's the do–"

"Eeekk!" Daya shrieked in alarm as she felt a sharp, unexpected tug at the skirt she was holding. Looking down, she very nearly screamed for real, but while she was gasping for the necessary air she breathed in a fleck of spit and ended up coughing instead.

"Nibbles!" Robyn exclaimed happily, crouching down to pet the creature on the head. The little black animal gave another firm tug on the skirt's hem with his teeth and shook his head like a wolf worrying a rabbit. Daya dropped the garment's hangar as if it were coated in slime.

"Hello, Nibbles, hello!" Robyn giggled, tickling the creature's perky ears. Growing bored with the now-'dead' skirt, the little animal eagerly climbed into Robyn's lap and rolled onto its back, exposing its furry belly for a tummy rub. "Howya doin' there, Nibbles! Good boy," Robyn laughed.

Daya could only stare, frozen awkwardly in horrified disbelief. How did her daughter know this creature? With a sickening, guilty pang, she suddenly realized Robyn must have wandered off while she was picking out Jay's costume. But just how long had she been out of her sight? Daya's disorientation grew worse when a bright, accented voice spoke up from just over her shoulder.

"Hello," the British voice said. "I see you've met my dog."

"D-d-d-!" Daya stammered, waving her arms in helpless frustration as she tried to force the words out. "How can you call that…that _thing_ a dog! It has no nose! How on Earth does it smell?"

"Quite nice, really. He just had a bath," the dog's slender owner quipped with a broad, cheeky grin. "Sorry, I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist."

Daya scowled a scowl that only grew deeper when the strange British man knelt down beside Daya's daughter with suspicious familiarity. So, that was where Robyn had gone. She understood it now–Robyn had run off and this man had used his repulsive dog to attract her attention, to get her to come closer to him. Daya huffed, her guilt morphing into outrage mixed with fear. The man reached into the pocket of his long, tan overcoat and her eyes widened–but her defensive instincts faded slightly when he pulled out a tiny rawhide bone. Robyn clapped in delight as he and the dog began playing tug-of-war.

"Nibbles is a very special kind of dog," he explained in a rambling sort of way, apparently oblivious to Daya's anger. "From Barcelona. That's the planet Barcelona, of course, not the city Barcelona."

"Of course," Daya frowned.

"I didn't plan to take him with me, but when I got back to the TARDIS he just refused to leave me. And Donna did say I should find someone to travel with, so I figured, why not! I've missed having a dog since K-9 had to stay with Romana in E-Space, and little Nibbles here is just so cute…!" He rubbed the dog's belly and the dog snuffled a happy, nose-less snuffle. "Who's a happy puppy, then? Who's a good puppy?"

Daya glared down at the man with her hands on her hips. "Did you give that scarf to my daughter?" she demanded

"Hm?" the man blinked up at her, then glanced at Robyn. "Oh, that! Yes, yes I did. Halloween spirit and all that," he grinned. "Why, don't you like it?"

"That's it," she frowned, striding over to Robyn and forcibly uncoiling the lengths of multi-colored knitting from around her neck before dropping the whole mass in the man's astonished lap. "I want you to stay away from my daughter, you hear me? Take your nasty little dog and leave us alone, or I swear I'll call security."

"You what?"

"Mom!" Robyn exclaimed. "No! You can't just–"

"Robyn, this man is not normal," Daya said, her glare fixed on the flabbergasted young Englishman as he lifted his dog in his arms and straightened back to his full height. "Now, come away from him, honey. We're leaving."

"No! I don't want to go! Doctor, Doctor, please tell her I can stay!"

"Doctor?" Daya repeated suspiciously. The man raised his chin.

"That's his name, Mommy," Robyn said. "He's the Doctor, and he came to the mall in his space ship because he had to catch this little alien–"

"I don't want to hear it," Daya snapped, switching the chewed violet skirt for a fresh one from the rack and pushing the cart toward the check-out. "There we are. Now come on, Robyn, let's buy these costumes and get out of here."

"No!" Robyn shrieked, starting to cry as she pulled at the cart, trying to impede her mother's stubborn progress. "No, don't buy that skirt! I don't want to be a pixie! I want the Doctor's scarf! I don't want to wear that skirt! I mean it, I won't wear it!"

Jay was starting to become agitated too, fidgeting in the cart and whimpering. Meanwhile, Robyn's cries were becoming screams. Daya stopped short and brought a hand to her forehead, grinding her teeth as she counted to twelve.

"I'm sorry."

It was that British nut's voice, soft and sad and surprisingly sincere. Daya felt ready to explode.

"Oh, you are, are you?" she snapped. "This is all your fault, you know. What kind of a pervert are you, anyway, hanging around the mall with that deformed dog of yours. You're lucky I don't call the cops! I swear, if I ever see you anywhere near Robyn's school, I'll–"

"I wasn't speaking to you," the Doctor frowned at Daya, and she suddenly swallowed, seeing something in his brown eyes she hadn't noticed before. It was something deep and ancient, and it chilled her to her core.

"What are you?" she gasped. The Doctor ignored her, turning instead to Robyn.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Robyn Kestrel," he said, and the little girl nodded through her tears. "Thank you for helping me capture the bounding Snerg. Rassilon only knows what kind of havoc the little fellow could have caused if you hadn't coaxed it away from the food court in time."

Adjusting the dog in his arms, he pulled a clear plastic canister from his pocket and held it up to the light. A tiny, orange, hedgehog-like thing blinked out from its center. "They expand like hot air balloons when they eat," he said. Robyn giggled and the Doctor winked. Then, without warning, he replaced the canister in his pocket, strode up to the window display and walked right in to the tall, blue, cobweb covered box in the corner. Daya opened her mouth to alert the sales clerk, but Robyn stopped her.

"No, Mom, just watch," she said with a wicked grin. "This'll be good."

Daya stepped back in alarm as the box began emitting a strange, whooshing, whirring sound, the light at its top blinking on and off. As they watched, the blue box faded away, vanishing in a gush of wind as if it had never been. Daya's knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor, her limp hand covering her mouth as she stared at the empty space where the box had stood. "OK," she murmured to herself. "OK, that was strange."

"Yep! Told ya he had a space ship," Robyn smirked, ruffling her mother's hair. Then her eyes widened and she bounded across the store with a yelp of joy.

"His scarf! He left it for me!" she exclaimed, wrapping it around and around and around herself in happy satisfaction. "Come on, Mom," she said, "let's buy these costumes and get out of here. I think Jay needs a nap."

_The End_

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Please Review!


End file.
